Where All Roads Lead
by WindStar
Summary: During a damned venture to Muspelheim, Thor makes a deal with the devil - and Loki pays the price.
1. Chapter 1

**Windstar: **This is my first attempt at writing Thor fanfiction. I hope that it's satisfactory. Please let me know what you think, this story is finished and I will update it when I have the opportunity to do so.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters of Thor, its partners, or its affiliates. All rights reserved to Marvel Corporation.

"This is not a good idea, Thor." Loki wondered what the point of speaking was as he looked at his brother – all he could see was the man's pig headed desire to do as he wanted. Nothing was getting through to the big lummox, and he was just about ready to let the great idiot go off and do what he wanted (despite the fact that he was probably going to get killed in the process).

"Nonsense, this is a great idea!" Thor was excited as ever, and Loki sighed in frustration.

"There's a reason why we're not allowed to go to certain worlds…" he tried softly, but Thor was waving him off.

"All will be well brother! You'll see!"

"I do not wish to see. I wish to stay here and not be chided by father when he realizes what you've done. I'll be blamed for this, you know. They'll never believe that you just conjured this idea on your own."

"I'll swear you had nothing to do with it, will that make you feel better?" Thor was laughing at him, and Loki glared back. The older god was absolutely insufferable. He was strapping weaponry to his chariot, and preparing his goats for battle. The stables were annoyingly empty, and there hadn't been a curious servant dropping by for a frustratingly long time. Loki continued to glance over his shoulder in hopes that he could catch _someone's _eye, if only to tell them to inform their father immediately of what was about to transpire. Just his luck, no one was approaching.

"It won't change a thing and you know it." Loki bit out, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the nearest stable, and glanced over his shoulder as the horse inside came to say hello. A velvety muzzle started to push against the side of his face, and nip at his hair. He shifted slightly and reached back to scratch the great beast's cheek. He received a happy puff of air in his ear of his efforts.

Thor, for his part, was laughing heartily. He continued to strap things here or there, packing supplies into the chariot and double-checking everything to make sure all was well. "Well if you're going to be blamed anyway…"

"That logic is beneath even you." Loki scoffed, and the horse behind him gave an impatient whinny in his ear. He turned his attention fully on the horse and gave it a firmer rubbing on its neck.

"Brother…." Thor was whining now, and Loki gave him an impatient look.

"You shall lead me to my death one day, I'm sure of it." He hissed, and Thor whooped with delight. It was as close to acceptance that he was likely to receive. Hurrying over, the blonde wrapped his arms around Loki and squeezed him tightly. The younger god gasped out as his bones shifted around his lungs and he coughed when the air was expelled from his chest. "Release me! Before you kill me here and now!" He hissed, and Thor did as he was bid.

"Great songs and tales will be sung of this day, brother!" Thor exclaimed happily, and Loki grimaced, rubbing his aching ribs.

"Great songs and tales will no doubt be written about someone." He griped. Thor laughed merrily and boarded his chariot. He held out a hand for Loki. "Oh no, I'm not riding that thing."

"Why not?" Thor asked, raising a brow in honest confusion. "It's a fine device, and Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr are wonderfully able bodied. They are excellent companions in battle."

"Yes I'm sure. I may be small, brother – but I'm not small enough to fit comfortably on that _thing_ with you and all of your war gear beside. I'll bring my own mount, thank you _very _much." He pulled away from the pen he was leaning against, and the horse that he'd been petting gave him one last hopeful rub on the arm. He indulged it with another firm scratching.

"Surely you do not intend to take Sleipnir…" Thor commented as he watched Loki say his goodbyes to the friendly creature beside him.

"Of course not. I may be insane to following you into Muspelheim, but I'm not completely raving mad. I would never endanger father's horse like that." Thor frowned slightly, a look of confusion crossing his face as he watched Loki travel to the other side of the barn and begin to take care of a gentle horse that Frigg had bequeathed her youngest son only two years before.

"Strange is it that you call him that."

"Father's horse?" Loki clarified, glancing over his shoulder to look at Thor.

"Do you regret giving him to father? Having him here?"

"Thor, he is a horse, and I would rather see him with father than at the hands of another soldier or at the mercy of a hunter in the field. Father cares for him, and Sleipnir cares for father too. He protects him, and for that I'm glad."

"Can you…speak with him?" Thor questioned, and Loki saddled his stallion as his brother spoke. The trickster laughed slightly.

"What an idea, speaking with my own child." Thor glowered at him.

"You know of what I speak."

"Yes, I can understand him, brother. As he understands me." Loki affirmed. "He's a good child…a good horse." Thor nodded and looked back towards the eight-legged creature that was focusing fully on them.

"Do you regret doing as you did?" Thor asked casually, and Loki mounted his stallion.

"Do I regret fornicating with a giant's horse in order to keep our fair Freya from marrying him?" Loki drawled out, more than a little amused when Thor blushed furiously and stammered in response.

"Must you say things so bluntly?"

"Must you dance around the issue? Sleipnir is just there, and he and I are both residents in this place. It is not an unknown topic – Thor."

"Yes, but…well…your feelings on the matter?"

"I do not regret having my son." Loki confirmed easily. "Appearances have never mattered to me – Thor. Nor should they to you." The thunder god nodded his head, and smiled brightly at his brother.

"Are you ready, then?" Loki sighed.

"Yes, yes. Onwards, to our doom. Let us die in honor and all of that. Really, are you certain that you don't want to call this off?"

"Yes, quite certain. We're going to be famous, dear brother!"

"We already are, only now we shall be famous and dead." Loki muttered in annoyance. Thor laughed heartily and slapped his reins on the backs of his goats. The beasts took off sharply and hurried down the Bifrost, stampeding quickly towards the gate. At an equal pace, Loki rode behind his brother, wondering just how it was that he was dragged into this mess.

To all others, Loki had no difficulties in persuading or tricking into doing things his way, but he balked at doing so for Thor. Perhaps it was because they'd sworn long ago to always honor each other and to never cause more harm than good in their relations towards one another. Whatever the case may be, though, Loki knew that Thor would leave by himself on this damn fool's venture, and then he really _would _be killed. No one would be able to stop him, or save him, in time. So Loki knew he had to go…even if he was desperately looking for a way to stop this madness before it began.

They approached Heimdal casually, and Thor gallantly strode before the gatekeeper. He spoke promptly about his mission and what he wished to accomplish. Muspelheim had decided to invade Alfheim, and the good elves of Alfheim needed their help. Heimdal didn't so much as change his facial expression, before telling them that it was forbidden and that they could not leave.

Thor gave Loki a beseeching look, and the god of mischief wondered if this was why he'd been dragged along on this damn fool's crusade in the first place. Thor didn't know how to get passed the gatekeeper. Rolling his eyes, he held his hands up. He wanted nothing to do with this. He'd told Thor early on that he was going to be blamed for this, and right now he was not giving everyone the excuse they were looking for. If Thor couldn't get passed the gate then that was his problem, not Loki's.

"Heimdal!" A servant was running towards them now, and Loki couldn't believe the luck that his brother maintained. He knew the look on the servant's face even before he spoke. Odin had given him a message, and if Odin was summoning Heimdal…then the gate would be left unguarded for a time.

Heimdal was giving Thor a look that could kill – clearly he was unimpressed by this delay, and just as soon as he'd finished glaring at Thor he turned his gaze on Loki. "I had nothing to do with this." Loki commented dryly, temper mounting slightly as Heimdal began to slowly pass.

"If he is harmed because of your folly…" Heimdal's threat was sincere, and just once Loki wondered what anyone would say if it was he, and not Thor, who was put in harms way. He doubted anyone would care or notice.

Thor had the good grace to wait until Heimdal had left the Bifrost completely, before slapping the reins of his goats once more. "Thor…I really do urge you to reconsider."

"Nonsense. We leave now." Thor encouraged happily. He waved his hand towards the gate. "You know how to activate it, don't you?"

"No." The lie came out easily. "Only Heimdal can activate the gate."

"Well…give me your staff then."

"Whatever _for, _Thor?"

"It should fit in that hole." Thor was waggling his eyebrows suggestively and Loki wondered if he'd be knocked in the head as a child.

"I'm sure I should be laughing at your clever mind, brother, but your jest falls short of humor. We will die if we go to Muspelheim. You must know that."

"Brother, we shall be heroes!"

"Dead ones." Loki muttered in agitation. Thor stepped off his chariot and quickly approached Loki, he looked his brother clear in the eye and spoke with all seriousness. His smile faded from his lips, and his eyes met his brother's firmly.

"Dearest brother, you know I would not risk your life intentionally. Just as you would not risk Sleipnir's. You are my brother, my family…and I know you come with me know to ensure that I do not lead myself into folly. Loki, we shall not be harmed in Muspelheim. We shall succeed. This war will be finished and the bloodshed stall stop, and we shall be the ones to do it. Trust me, Loki. I would not lead you to harm." The god of mischief looked down at his brother for a long while, his uncertainty was palpable, and still Thor gave him that beseeching look. Finally, though, he relented and passed his staff to Thor.

"Do not break it, or leave it behind." He instructed sternly, but Thor was nodding his head. He quickly hurried to the center dais and thrust the staff into the keyhole. Twisting sharply – lightening struck inside the gate, and Loki licked his lips.

"If we die…I shall forever send my Vörðr after you." He hissed, and Thor laughed merrily.

"And I will be at its mercy, little brother!" He announced cheerily, jumping from the dais and onto his chariot.

Lights started to spark all around them, and Loki shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. He glanced back towards Asgard and took a deep breath. At least Heimdal knew where they'd gone. He should be able to inform the others of what had transpired here at the gate. The tunnel was opening, and Loki turned his attention to his staff, still in the dais.

"Thor, wait we need to-"

The feeling of his stomach dropping out from inside of him wrenched his mind away from the dais and through the twisting world of the rainbow bridge. He gasped, the uncomfortable sensation making his head spin. His stallion galloped confidently on the bridge, but he was less certain. He still couldn't shake the feeling of something being very _wrong _about all of this.

With a mighty effort, he threw his power towards the dais and wrenched hard on the staff that rested in its gullet. The staff was lodged free, and flew towards him, but to his horror – the gate shut closed behind it, and the staff clattered on the wrong side. The bridge failed underneath them, and suddenly they were flying through space and time – the horses and goats shouting in determination as they flew their way to the harsh burning earth of Muspelheim.

They touched down, and Loki felt his breath catch in his throat as his lungs congealed. It was _hot _here. So torturously hot, that he felt sweat pouring from his scalp and face within only seconds of arriving. His mouth ran dry, his skin chafed instantly, and his eyes blurred and burned.

Vaguely he was aware of Thor laughing, saying something, but he couldn't make it out. Something wasn't right…and whatever it was- was affecting him deeply. He tried to say something, but his throat constricted around the words. He choked, raised a feeble hand to his throat. He felt his head spinning violently. His stomach was still rolling, and still for whatever reason – he couldn't work out what was happening.

"Brother?" Thor's voice sounded far closer than it had before, but it was echoing – as though he was speaking in a large canyon or drifting from far away. Loki raised his eyes to meet Thor's, but everything was blurred and the light burned sharply. Pain radiated through his head. He felt as though his very skin was peeling off of him, and he gasped against the burning air. "Loki!" The voice was booming, echoing, crashing into his senses, but he couldn't respond…couldn't tell it what was happening.

He tipped sideways, reeling away from the sounds and the sensation around him. He hardly realized that he was on a horse, a horse that was suddenly cool beneath his thighs. He was falling, falling forever – until he was jerked back roughly and thrust the opposite direction. Thor had caught his arm, keeping him from abandoning his mount so ungracefully. Instead, the great god of thunder had wrenched him off his horse and onto that damnable chariot.

Thor pulled him so that he was laying as a child in his lap, and for whatever reason, Loki could not understand what he was doing that for. His brain was working one step an hour and everything seemed slowed down and wrong. Nothing quite made sense. He felt all moisture leaving him, and he grimaced.

He knew they shouldn't have gone to Muspelheim.

* * *

**Vörðr - (pronounced vur-thur): **a wraith like spirit that is a shadow of the soul. Occasionally this spirit can appear while you are still alive, but it is more common after death. The Old Norse equivalent to a ghost. Literally translates to "guard."


	2. Chapter 2

**Windstar: **Thank you very much to all of my reviewers. I truly appreciate your kind words and your support. I have officially finished this story and its sequel, and now that I'm back from vacation, I can post things much more efficiently. Thank you once again for all of your support, and I hope to year from you soon!

**Chapter: **

Thor laughed with delight when he first saw Muspelheim. He could already imagine the battles, the victories, and the tales that would start from this day forth. People would sing of this! He knew that they would be successful, for how could they not? They were sons of Odin, the most powerful god this realm had ever faced, and they would not be denied. He turned his head to call out a war cry – fully expecting to hear his brother join in.

And that's when his delight faded, and he was forced to truly take in his brother's physique. Loki appeared as though he'd been left in the sun to rot, his skin was flushed red, and it was peeling badly where it was exposed to the light. He was sweating profusely, and while Thor agreed it was hot…it wasn't _that _hot. Aside from the harsh burn that seemed to cross Loki's skin, all color had withdrawn from the younger god's face. His hair was dangling at his neck in clumps, knotted and damp from his perspiration.

"Loki?" Thor called out, slowly turning his chariot around so that he could look at his brother more carefully. The younger god didn't respond, he just stared out ahead of him blankly, as though his mind had been disconnected from his body. "Brother, can you hear me?" He asked gently. He reached a hand out towards the trickster, almost confident that this was another one of his foolish games. If it was – Thor was not amused in the slightest. "Brother?" His hand was hesitating just above his brother's arm, and he could _feel _the strange heat that was pouring up from his body. "Answer me, Loki!" He hissed sharply.

The young prince reeled away, as though physically struck. Instantly his balance was lost and he was slipping. Thor shot forwards and caught his brother's arm – wrenching it towards him and catching the twisting body before it crashed to the ground below. His horse reared in confusion, not understanding what was happening, and Thor grimaced as he caught the reins of the beast and steadied it.

Carefully lowering himself to the ground, he held his brother in his lap – looking him over for any sign of what had caused his ailment so suddenly. "Loki, Loki this is not funny, and I am in no mood for one of your games. Respond to me immediately, or you shall not be pleased with what I will do." Thor hissed, shaking his brother. He earned no response, and he grit his teeth. "Loki!" He snapped again.

The young god in his arms just lay there, staring straight up as though he could not tear his gaze away from the sky. Thor stared into his brother's eyes as he couldn't help but blink in awe as the dark green eyes of his brother paled to an almost silver-grey, blotching into the sclera and immediately bursting capillaries that were there. His eyes were bleeding red, and Thor shouted in horror at the sight.

His head snapped up, and he surveyed their surroundings. Where before he had looked at a world he intended to conquer, now he looked for a place to keep his brother safe. But there was nothing, no outcrop no cave, and no building or complex. It was simply overrun terrain of desert and volcanic rock. The sun beat down on them, and Thor felt panic course in his chest. He could protect Loki in a battle, but against this unknown enemy he was uncertain as to how to proceed.

"Heimdal! Heimdal! Open the Bifrost!" He shouted up to the air, but Heimdal didn't answer. There was only silence, silence and heat. Terrified, Thor placed his brother in the chariot, and covered him with his cloak. The shade seemed to help somewhat, as his skin stopped exploding his veins at the slightest bit of movement. "Heimdal! Heimdal please!"

"What…have we here?" Thor whipped around, and stared, in horror, at the sight of a fire-Jotunn scouting party. The sons of Muspel were out in flourish, their towering forms and their burning bodies displayed proudly. They were prepared for a fight, and Thor was not in the mood to deal with them.

"Leave now, fire-giants. I wish to have no quarrel with you at this time." Thor hissed, his concern for his brother over riding his quest for blood.

"At this time?" The giants laughed in his face, and Thor reached for Mjolnir.

"Be gone with you! I have not the time nor patience to deal with you and the rest of your kin. My attention is towards another."

The giants were laughing, surrounding him even as he spoke, Thor felt his heart thundering in his chest as he calculated the odds of this fight. His grip tightened on Mjolnir and he stood firmly before his chariot. Loki was curled under his cloak, but his presence was still known – and the giants could see where his attentions lay quite clearly. He did not know if he could win without risking Loki's health, failing as it was.

"Towards another? Then…we shall make it solely on us." The giants surged forwards, and Thor struck out sharply. One was shattered on impact, exploding through the stomach the moment he touched Mjolnir. Another's head snapped off its shoulders. The third's legs were swept from his torso. The fourth's chest was entrenched. Thor struck hard and fast and he gave the giants no time to breathe or change their strategy.

By the time he had struck down the seventh of the giants, he had started to consider that all would be well. It was the eighth, to whom he turned to face at long last, who had slipped by his notice and care originally. This eighth giant had watched as his brethren had been felled, and he had planned for another route all together: for now, in between his large hands – was young, desperately ill, Prince Loki.

"Release him!" Thor shouted, eyes going to his brother's flesh, revealed to the sun once more. Capillaries were bursting here and there, and bruising was flushing his neck and face. The prince didn't seem to even notice that he was sick, that he was being held hostage, or that his very life was in peril. He simply kept his head down – wide bleeding eyes staring out into nothingness.

"I think not." The giant laughed, smoke billowed from its mouth. "You are in the home of Surtr…and you are not free to roam these lands on a whim. You dare to threaten and kill in Muspelheim, Asgardian? You will die for your arrogance. And your brother will die for your foolishness." The giant cast a glance down at the boy he held, laughing slightly as he saw the effect of the world upon him. "Such sensitive skin this little one has." He laughed, and his hands burned merrily around the cloth that Loki wore. His clothing scorched and burned, and Thor took a horrified step forwards. "Stand still, or I shall kill him here and now." The giant hissed, and Thor was forced into immobility. The more skin that the giant revealed on Loki's body, the more horribly burned and scorched it became. Thor felt his heart hammering in his ears, and he shook his head.

"Release him! Release my brother!"

"I will not. He goes to Surtr, and the king of Muspelheim will determine his fate. You…You may seek an audience with Surtr in three days. Remain here, and kill _no _one else. If you are still alive in three days, an escort will take you to Surtr's throne room where you may petition for your brother's life. Know this, Asgardian, my master is not easily pleased…be prepared to offer much to save this child." Loki was shaken roughly before Thor's eyes, and the god of thunder clenched his fists and teeth. "Now sit…and wait…lament your hubris, _boy _…and perhaps you will be able to leave with your life."

A harsh flame erupted from the ground, and Thor shielded his eyes from the light, heat, and smoke. When it faded, the giant and Loki were gone, and Thor could not help but stand still – horrified at what his actions had led to.

He looked at his goats, and then at Loki's stallion. The three beasts were glaring at him like this was his entire fault, like he should do something to stop this, but he honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do or how to fix it. Putting enemies to death had always come easily, but this was different.

Inaction was what they wanted in order to save his brother. Thor grit his teeth, and let out a shout of pure anger. Mjolnir was raised above his head and he brought it down onto the ground with a shout. The earth split beneath him and rock and sand blew everywhere. His heart beat wildly in his chest and he slumped against his chariot. His father was going to kill him, but only if he didn't lead himself to battle first.

Gritting his teeth, he clambered aboard his chariot and motioned for the stallion to follow him. He would not wait three days to save his brother. He would save him now, and to do so: he would storm into Surtr's fiery fortress itself if that's what it took.

In his mind, he couldn't help but see his brother's weak and tortured expression. Thor could remember when his mother and father had come to him, informing him that his mother was with child, that he would have a brother soon enough. He could remember waiting for months, watching as his mother ate more and became large – and then was gone. He'd asked his father where she'd gone to, but Odin had told him that she needed rest.

Several months later, Odin and Frigg revealed to the world the baby boy, Loki, that would be their son. Every god was different at birth, some were large some were powerful. Some were born with full knowledge of language and skills. This child was larger than a mortal babe, but he was sweet and precious all the same. He looked up at those around him with wide eyes, and constantly – _constantly _– he wished to be held.

He practically was attached to Frigg and Odin, refusing to leave them, but never daring to say a single word in explanation. Over time, Thor managed to pull the boy's attention away from their parents and solidified his role as permanent playmate and protector. The child grew fast, and soon they were the same height, but Thor knew…he knew that the boy was younger – and that was always a determining factor.

His father had cautioned him, told him to look out for his brother, to always protect him from harm. That was his duty, to keep his brother alive, no matter the cost. He would do it if he was asked, or if he were not. He cared for his brother, and he didn't wish anything to do him wrong.

"How could this happen?" Thor bemoaned his current state of affairs, cursing his luck and his stupidity. How many times had Loki told him that this would not do, that they should not go to Muspelheim, how many times had he ignored his brother's hopeful request?

Thor whipped his goats harder, and the goats heaved forwards, galloping across the land with great speed and fortitude. "I will come for you brother…I will…" He only hoped that he would not be too late.

* * *

Loki, for his part, was not even aware that he had been taken from the safe haven of Thor's protection. His mind was still burning, and his thoughts were wrapped around the idea that everything was hot…so very hot. He was desperate for water, for the touch of a cool breeze, _anything_ that could make this horrid heat go away.

His clothes had been scorched to nothingness, and the giants who held him saw nothing but humor as they laughed at him. His skin was bursting under the scorching son, and he was dying before them. His arms crumpled beneath him, and he shivered as his nervous system tried to comprehend how to cool him – and utterly failed in the process.

"What is this?" Surtr asked of the giant who deposited the god-child before him.

"Loki, son of Odin." The giant explained evenly. "His brother Thor is here as well. My entire unit was killed due to Thor's wrath, but the boy stayed his hand."

"Boy? That is no boy." Surtr was laughing heartily. "That is a frost-giant taken out of its element!" The bellowing laugh of the giant-king bounced off of the crests and valleys of Muspelheim. He approached Loki's crumpled form, and rolled him onto his back. "See, kin, how his body cannot accept the heat! He yearns for water, for chill, but he'll get none here!" The sons of Muspel laughed heartily at the proclamation, and Surtr swept the godling up in his great hand. "He lingers only by the will of the gods. Half god child, his body is weak in the sun."

Loki tried to take another shuddering gasp, but it failed him and he was left sucking on air that would never enter his lungs. His organs were shutting down, his heart was failing, and his blood was congealing as it burst his veins.

"But what is a frost-giant doing as a son of Odin?" one of Surtr's guards questioned lightly, and Surtr frowned as he looked at the boy in his grasp. He was young for a god, but he was powerful. Under his burning fingers, Surtr could feel the wealth of power in this small fragile body. The child was brimming with magic that was begging to be tapped into.

It had been a long while since Surtr had attempted to use his own magic, had never had the need for it. Now, he turned his raging power from a blunt instrument of destruction into a precision weapon of skill. He cut into Loki's mind and he tore back the pieces. Despite the child's incoherency – his mind was shielded with layers of magic and protection that repelled Surtr like a disobedient child.

The boy writhed in his grasp, exploding pressure from his body and returning the mental probe with more force than Surtr had thought necessary. The fire-king scowled in impatience and threw precision aside, all but crushing the child in his hands as he forced his will into the boy's mind like a sledgehammer against rock. He knew when the first walls of defense failed, because the boy actually shouted out in pain – the first sound he'd made- and the last his body could possibly make.

His throat was too dry to make a sound, and he was left gaping weakly with no strength to scream and no mind to argue. Surtr looked deeply into the child's mind, and reviewed his memories – his thoughts, his fears, his hopes, his dreams, and his brother. Surtr looked carefully at the images and the feelings, the gentle nature, and the sweet disposition of the boy in his grasp. He reviewed the mind of Odin, as perceived by his son.

Where the innocent thoughts of the child did not cast the shadows of doubt or suspicion that Surtr had, the king analyzed the images with the maturity that eluded the young prince of Asgard. He saw what the boy missed. He saw exactly how Odin treated him, how he spoke to him, and how he referred to him. He saw exactly what was going on in Odin'd palace, and Surtr laughed.

Trying to unify the realms through a child's innocence and peace…was a foolish thought. Trying to unify the realms without telling your child that he really was a kidnapped prize from a damned race, a hidden monster in the closet, and preparing him to return to his realm as ruler was a ridiculous notion that tinged on insanity.

Everything hinged on one thought: Loki Odinson did not know that he was a frost giant. He did not know that his family was not his family. He did not know that he was a monster.

And so Surtr laughed, because really – this was all too easy, and there was nothing simpler than turning a child against his family.

As it stood now, if Odin explained the boy's fate to him, if he explained why he was adopted, if he even explained that he _was _adopted, the boy would accept it. He would accept it because he loved his father, he loved Asgard, and he was – in truth – a truly gentle and sweet boy. He enjoyed mischief, he enjoyed teasing and joking and making games, but he was not evil.

Not yet.

"How long until the son of Odin rides to my gates and demands his brother's life?" Surtr questioned.

"Our scouts have him placed on the horizon. He will be here by nightfall."

"Perfect. That's more than enough time." Surtr laughed.

His job was to bring about the destruction of Asgard at the end of all things. Everything had been fated for that to be so. He had prepared for that moment for such a long time…and now he had another weapon in his vault.

He would return Loki, _Laufeyson_, to Thor and Odin. But the child they received would not be the one that they had raised. You have to give to get, and he knew exactly what to do. "Summon my sorcerers. They have work to do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Windstar: **Thank you very much to my wonderful reviewers, responses will be out shortly. this is the last official chapter - there is an epilogue that follows it that takes place Post-Avengers, and then there is a sequel that will be posted shortly there after. I hope you have enjoyed this story, and I look forwards to hearing your responses. Thanks once again, and enjoy.

**Chapter: **

Thor arrived at the gates of Surtr's palace in good time. He was breathing hard from the heat of the sun, but his mind was on Loki and Loki alone. The child had been dying when he had been taken from him, and over the past few hours in Muspelheim, Thor was certain that his health had diminished greatly. He needed to do something, anything, to achieve his safety and freedom, and he was prepared to do just that.

"Surtr! I seek an audience with you! Open your gates now, or I shall tear them down, King of Muspelheim!" Tact had never been Thor's strong suit, but he was in no mood for games. Right now he wanted to seek vengeance for his brother's illness, kidnapping, and captivity. He wanted his brother safe in his arms, and he demanded that it be so.

"Is that any way to speak to a foreign dignitary in his own home?" Surtr's voice boomed over the gates, and Thor grit his teeth angrily.

"You have my brother, I wish him to be returned to me!" The gates opened, and Thor looked between them, watching as the city Surtr called home came into view. It was a desolate, burning, smoking, awful place, and Thor glowered in anger at the sight of it. He stepped off his chariot and ordered the beasts to stay vigilant and prepare to fight any who approached them. Then, he entered the city.

He walked forwards, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the slab of stone that was raised above the ground like a tomb. On it, lay his poor weak little brother. Black hair matted and clingy, it lay plastered to the slab in clumps. His face was deathly pale, the skin all but tearing off it as it burned and cracked away. All skin visible was nearly black and rotted, his veins and blood vessels having long since given up trying to oxygenate his limbs. Many had simply burst from the heat and Thor felt his heart break. He could hardly see the boy breathing. His eyes were closed and his lips lax. He looked dead, and Thor prayed that it was not so.

He hurried to his brother's side, but a force greater than he separated them. A barrier sprang to life around his brother's still form. Anger crossed his features, and he looked around him for any signs of the caster. He saw giants everywhere, all watching…curious.

Surtr himself was approaching him from the tops of the castle. Thor watched as the giant descended stairs that were three feet in height each. The great king was smiling, and Thor grit his teeth. He was not pleased, and yet he knew that there was nothing that he could do. He was forced to play Surtr's game…whatever that may be.

"You've come a long way, son of Odin." Surtr told the young prince, and Thor scowled at him.

"Return my brother to me, and I shall leave your head on your shoulders for now." Surtr laughed merrily and waved off the notion as though it were a jest only.

"You do not frighten me _boy." _

"I am no boy, I am Thor, son of Odin…and I will be heard!"

"Yes, you will be." Surtr agreed. He looked down at Thor with amusement on his ancient and powerful face. "The boy is my prisoner, left in my safe keeping because someone lost him in the desert."

"I did not lose him, your men took him from me!" Thor shouted in fury, and Surtr grinned broader. He raised a great hand and Thor turned his attention to Loki. The god-child's back arched and he was drawing a gasping breath. His face was tightened with pain and his green eyes, splotched with blood and pain, opened and looked at Thor. He said nothing, and Thor doubted that he could even see him properly, but the effect was immediate. "Stop it! Stop you're hurting him!" Thor tried to once more cross the barrier, but the force was too strong and it repelled him. "Stop! Stop!" Surtr laughed, and did not stop.

"I do not relinquish my prisoners lightly, boy. He was trespassing in my kingdom, just as you are."

"Take me instead!" Thor shouted, holding his arms wide in a sign of sincerity. "Send him home to my father, take me instead!"

"No…no…that won't do at all." Surtr laughed. "You here, does nothing for me. Nothing I want."

"What do you want? I'll do anything, I'll swear to anything, release my brother and let me take him home!" Surtr laughed throatily and he released whatever spell was causing Loki so much pain. The boy crumpled once more, curling on his side and shivering in distress. Thor cast him a worried look, but Loki didn't return his gaze. He was nonsensical to the world around him. He did not listen, and he did not pay attention to any of it. He was completely undone.

"Swear that you will leave my borders, that you will never return."

"So long as my brother lives, I swear!" Thor said without thinking. Surtr grinned brightly.

"Swear that you will interfere no further in my war with Alfheim."

"I swear!" The blonde god agreed, eyes going back to Loki. The child was still once more, and he was certain that his brother has passed out from the pain. He was looking dreadful, and there was nothing that he could do except for watch as the boy was once more forced to deal with it on his own.

"These oaths are not good enough…they are not all I require." Surtr stated evenly. "I require payment."

"What do you want? I'll give you anything you wish so long as my brother is returned to me and we may leave Muspelheim." Surtr smiled toothily at the boy's foolish remarks. He had not yet learned how to bargain with a king. He had not yet learned how to deal with the might and power of Surtr. He would regret this day, of that Surtr was certain.

He raised one large hand and he pointed it straight to Loki. His clawed second finger reached out, aimed straight at the boy's body. Thor tensed in concern, but Surtr had no intentions of harming the boy just yet.

"I require his happiness." Thor blinked. His brows furrowed, and his lips parted in confusion. "You may keep his life…you may keep his life and keep him safe. You may bring him to Asgard, and you may live your life unbothered, but that boy's happiness remains here."

"What?" Thor was still trying to process what was being asked of him, and so Surtr decided to help.

"You will decide, son of Odin, if your brother's life is more important to you than his happiness. He will die, of that – it is certain. Leave him but a moment longer, and he will perish most painfully. However, you can take him, you can take him from this place and heal him in your palace in Asgard. Take him and keep him safe once more in your homeland…but his happiness remains. He will never be at peace. He will never accept things as they are. He will never enjoy anything he does, or anyone's company. His happiness is your price."

"Why? What is that to you?" Thor's voice broke, his mind reeling in response to the fire-giant's words. Surtr laughed long and hard, his amusement breaking across the walls of the city.

"Everything." He said. "That is my price. Your oaths and his happiness, for his life."

Thor looked towards Loki, the boy was unconscious, not able to tell him what to choose. He was weak, dying, and hurting for reasons that Thor still didn't understand. He was in dire need of assistance, but would not receive it here. The thunder-god grit his teeth, and looked at Surtr darkly.

"You will release him then? Touch him no more? Harm him no more?"

"I will release him to you, and will harm him no more on this day." Surtr stated firmly. "If he crosses me in the future, that is still subject to retribution." Thor grit his teeth, and looked at his brother once more.

"Do it. Return him to me." Surtr's lips crested and he smiled so powerfully, so greatly that Thor wondered if he had truly made the right decision here. He had been told to defend Loki, no matter what…and due to his own folly – he'd made a mess out of everything and nearly killed the boy. He couldn't live with himself if Loki died here. He knew that it was his own selfishness that was at play here, but he couldn't combat it. He'd find someway to please his brother, he'd find some way to make him at ease. He'd undo what Surtr would do. He knew he would.

Three sorcerers from Surtr's court slipped through the invisible boundary that surrounded Loki, and Thor watched in pain and horror as his brother was attacked with silvery blue threads of magic that dipped into his body and mind. Moments later, the servants bowed and left, and the barrier failed.

Thor surged forwards and rushed to his brother's side. Loki was burning in his grasp, but he held him close regardless. "Leave now, son of Odin, before I change my mind." The demon said firmly, and Thor glared at him over his shoulder. Every instinct in him told him to fight, to get revenge for what they had done, but he couldn't…he couldn't do that just yet. He needed to wait; he needed to save his brother's life first or all of this would be for naught.

He carried Loki back to his chariot, and he held him close as he directed the goats and his brother's stallion back to the bridge site. "Heimdal…good Heimdal, please hear me. I would wish to return now." Thor called, holding his brother close. The gate-keeper responded this time, and they all were summoned back up the bridge and into Asgard.

Odin and Frigg were waiting for them when they appeared at the gate. Frigg's face was awash with horror and sorrow; Odin's was a mask of fury. Heimdal looked guilty, but Thor couldn't bring himself to care. He carried his brother through Asgard to the healers, and watched as Odin disappeared into the room with his youngest son, forcing Thor to remain outside and wait.

Frigg wept as he retold her the events in Muspelheim, and he felt his sorrow only grow deeper. He paced as he waited, hoping that somehow everything would be all right, that things would be for the better in the end. Hours passed, days passed, weeks passed. The healers came and went, but the order was firm – absolutely no visitors were allowed.

Finally, after a month of waiting, Thor was allowed inside. Loki was awake, but his face bore an expression that Thor had never seen before. The sweet gentleness that had always been present in his kind little brother's mischievous face was overtaken by an anger that Thor had never seen before.

"Brother?"

"I told you not to go to Muspelheim."

"Yes I know…"

"Next time, would you just listen to me?" Loki hissed in frustration. Thor nodded his head shakily, but he knew that this had been a determining factor. He'd brought his brother home, and destroyed their relationship for good.

He watched over Loki carefully during the next few weeks, and to his dismay found that the mocking sneer and the agitation never left his brother's face. His heart sank deeply when he saw that Loki was truly, and unavoidably, unhappy with his life. There was nothing that could be done about it either.

Thor had begged Odin to reverse Surtr's spell, but Odin had tiredly explained that the oath was binding. If the spell broke than Loki would die and that was the only alternative. Thor watched in misery, as small events that Loki had passed off before would now make the boy vengefully mad.

His laughable and teasing mischief turned cruel and hateful. His harmed those around him, rather than simply jesting. And Sleipnir? Sleipnir was never visited, and when he was, Loki would rage at the state of it all. He would shout he would yell, he would do anything he could – furious that his son was even still here.

"He's a monster, and monsters deserve to be put down!" Loki hissed.

"No…no brother, he's your son." Thor tried to reason. "He's father's horse…"

"Yes, yes, servitude at it's finest. My son, _my son_, put to bearing the great weight of his highness. A prince as a stepping stool, how noble!" Loki's words were scathing and hot, his temper flaring angrily and his irritation growing.

Thor watched helplessly, knowing that this was his doing, knowing that he had caused this all to happen. He wondered what his brother would say if he knew the truth. No one had told him about the arrangement. No one had told him why he could never find happiness in anything he did, and he _did _try.

Thor watched him do everything and anything he could think of. He shape shifted, he used magic, he trained with a sword, he engaged in sexual relationships, he grew a garden, he destroyed a garden, he climbed through the world tree- but nothing happened.

No matter what he did, Loki grew bored, weary, exhausted, and simply ambivalent towards everything. When he conducted mischief, and was caught doing it, his response was always the same. "It was just a bit of fun." Thor understood more than anyone else that it was the only thing that Loki could do to try to keep himself entertained. Everything else just faded and was meaningless. At least his talent in magic was helping him move forwards. But regardless of it all, despite his insistence that it was just a bit of fun…Thor knew that Loki wasn't having any fun. He was trying to achieve the unachievable. Eventually, as lifetimes passed, Thor knew there was nothing else he could do. He saved his brother's life, but he damned him to unhappiness.

And so it didn't surprise Thor when he discovered that Loki had manipulated the situation in Asgard after his banishment so that he was now king. It didn't surprise him that Loki wanted to murder an entire race of people. It didn't surprise him that after they fought…after the Bifrost had been destroyed and Loki had had the option to being pulled to safety on the bridge – Loki had released the staff and willed himself to die at the end of all things.

There was only so long that someone could live without happiness, and Thor realized, that twenty lifetimes was longer than any one could expect it of him.

Guilt had filled him, at Loki's death. He'd known it was his fault from the beginning, and he wondered if Loki finally found out the role he'd played in his unhappiness. He wondered if Loki knew that the reason that he was so hurtful was because of the deal he'd made.

Through their lives together, he had practiced tireless patience. All else had failed his brother. His friends abandoned him, his peers hated him, and he didn't seem to care (though Thor knew that it had always mattered to the trickster). Thor couldn't bring himself to loose faith in his brother. He listened to him; he spoke to him. He explained to Loki why he was wrong in doing things, and though he knew that Loki barely ever listened to him – he always tried.

In the end, though, Thor wondered if it was a relief when Loki died…or if it was just his way of dealing with the pain of it all.


	4. Epilogue: The Avengers

**Windstar: **Thank you very much for reading this story. I truly appreciate you all, and have responded to all reviews where people were logged in. I hope that you enjoy this story's conclusion. This epilogue is a bit darker than the previous chapters and goes over a much more serious issue. However, it also sets it up for the sequel which is going to be posted later today. The sequel is about twice as long as this, and it is complete so it's just a matter of posting.

This chapter and all others (in the sequel) are all dated after the end of the Avengers. The only thing you need to know about that movie is that Loki gets caught at the end and they're returning to Asgard.

Once again, thank you, and I hope to see you all in the sequel: _The Pursuit of Happiness. _

**Chapter: Avengers**

Thor really should have known better. His emotions at seeing his brother again…had been conflicted. He had looked at his brother and he had hoped that perhaps he was going to be all right. That maybe the "death" he'd suffered had been enough to bring Loki peace and settle his heart and mind. It had been a fool's hope.

Loki was just as angry, hurt, and tormented, as he had been on the last day that Thor had seen him. The god was shouting, hissing, manipulating, laughing, angry, rebellious – _mad_. Thor had felt his heart break in frustration. He had prayed that his brother would return, happiness in tact, but now he saw that it was all a mess and that there was nothing he could do.

There was nothing anyone could do. Guilt poured through him and his tireless patience towards all things considered Loki was reaching its breaking point. While he still wouldn't suffer any other's insolence towards his brother, his own mind was shifting towards relenting. Maybe it would be better if they broke the spell on Loki, he would die – but at least he'd be able to achieve happiness in the afterlife.

When all was said and done, and it was simply a matter of binding Loki and forcing him to return to Asgard where he could be charged and contained properly – Thor felt weary of it all. He was tired of the charade, tired of the guilt, and tired of everything. For over one thousand years he had counseled himself into believing that it was his fault in the first place and so he should simply tolerate all of Loki's actions regardless of their affect. He was starting to realize that that couldn't be possible anymore.

"Tell me, brother, why is that you have done this? You know that it is not right, you are not a fool, brother." Loki was bound in a SHIELD stronghold and he was going to stay there until they left.

"I'm not your brother." Loki hissed at him, his eyes sparkling with hatred that Thor was growing more and more accustomed to seeing. It tormented him throughout every waking moment, plaguing him along with his guilt. It was a wonder that he not keeled over from stress alone over the past few years.

"Yes…you are Loki." Thor whispered.

"You simply refuse to listen to reason, don't you?" Loki's sharp tongue, and cruel tone only led to the god of thunder to raise a weary hand over his face.

"You are a frost giant, you were _adopted _by our father, and so blood or not – you are my brother." It was Loki's turn to look exhausted how. Sliding to the floor of his cell, his head sank to his hands and his elbows rested on his knees. His face turned somber and his eyes slipped closed.

"Why must you be so…"

"Faithful?" Thor was teasing, and he caught the slight quirks of Loki's lips. He may not ever be able to be happy, but he could find momentary amusement…fleeting feelings that did nothing to capture the general mood of peace Thor had always wished his brother was allowed.

"I was going to say incompetent, but I suppose to each his own." Thor laughed at the statement. He had never needed to make a show of how entertaining he found his brother's wit. His encouragement seemed to only make Loki grow worse over the years, his words sharper and more direct. Thor didn't care; he just smiled and let it be known that he was pleased. It always made Loki's lips quirk that little extra bit more, and the god was doing it now.

"Brother, can we not be friends again?" Loki raised his eyes to look at Thor in defeat.

"Can you not simply end this for me, Thor? Truly, after all I've done, even you are above forgiveness." The comment tore at Thor's heart and he knelt before his brother – maintaining eye contact as he sank.

"Why are you trying so hard for my to hate you, Loki? When you know that I am incapable of doing so."

"I've slaughtered thousands, waged war against your precious Midgard-"

"You are my brother." Loki slammed a hand on the ground, anger crossing his features.

"Stop saying that!" Thor shook his head sadly.

"I cannot do that." He said softly.

"Can you not kill me and be done with it, Hel…it would be a mercy at this point." Tears pressed against Thor's eyes and he shook his head.

"I cannot kill you, Loki."

"Have Barton do it – he clearly yearns for it."

"I will not be responsible for your death."

"_Damn you, _Thor."

"Yes…_that _I deserve." Thor took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something Loki." The younger god snorted and rolled his eyes.

"If this is a long lost love confession, I'd rather die than suffer your ineptitude." Thor laughed slightly and shook his head.

"No, nothing of the sort." Thor said lightly. He opened his mouth and he spoke. He spoke about Muspelheim, he spoke about the deal he made, and he spoke about the guilt he'd carried. He explained how Odin had already been moving towards protecting Alfheim, and that he had called Heimdal away from the bridge so that he might assist in channeling the power needed to set a barrier between Alfheim and Muspelheim. Odin had known that his sons were going to Muspelheim, and he had known they would face folly there He'd left them behind to teach them a lesson. It was only when Thor had agreed to the deal that Surtr had offered did he start to go to the bridge to bring them back. He, obviously, had been to late to stop anything.

Then, Thor spoke about what had happened after Loki had released the scepter on the Bifrost. He spoke about how he confronted Odin and demanded an explanation for what had been done and for what should be done in the future. There, Odin told him the truth about the past.

How when he'd first brought Loki home, he'd hidden him away – far out of sight. He smuggled the babe into the city and sequestered him into a room by himself. Then, after that, he and Frigg announced she was with child. The farce continued through the gestation period and beyond. The world was none the wiser to the fact that Frigg had never been pregnant, and her days of solitude had been spent with Loki.

She held him to her; gently loving him in all ways a mother loved her son. She took him to her breast, and allowed her body to produce the nutrients he needed by will and love alone. He suckled just as any child of Odin would have. She cared deeply for her precious new child, and she did everything she could to ease his terrors.

As a baby, Loki was scared of the world. Asgard was so different from his birthplace, and so Frigg did as she could to comfort her new son. Odin spent much time with him, focused on easing his transfer into the palace. When he was finally brought before the court, the boy was well adjusted, but attached to his parents.

Odin had feared that telling Loki about his past would lead him to destruction. He had seen the mischievous and curious nature of Loki, he had seen the happiness and the delight that the boy had at doing anything that Thor wanted to and he was worried. Telling Loki when he was of age would have begged the question for why he hadn't said something the day before. It was always put off, and Odin regretted not saying something.

Muspelheim had affected Loki so much, because as a frost-giant, the boy was incapable of surviving in the scorching wasteland of that realm. It was the same as a fire-giant attempting to raid Jotunnheim. It would have ended in catastrophe. When they returned to Asgard, Odin sequestered the healing room, and barred the doors. He poured copious amounts of ice on Loki's immobile body, and the contact changed his form back to the frigid blue of a frost giant.

It took a month to recover from the heat and the damage, and Loki slept through it all. Odin didn't let anyone in, refused to allow anyone to see his son like this. He didn't want people to know, he didn't want people to treat him any differently. He wanted Loki to live happily and at peace.

But something strange had happened while Odin was caring for Loki. It was something a healer had mentioned, that the All Father looked into. A frost-giant would never have survived the damage that was done to him. He would never have made it out of Muspelheim. Loki had…and that, coupled with his slight stature and his transformation into a god in certain heats – led them all to one conclusion.

"You're half-Asgardian, Loki." Thor stated firmly. Loki's expression hadn't changed through his tale, but his calculating gaze was locked on Thor the whole while. "Your mother…she was a god, a lesser god – mind, but a god none the less. While you deny Asgard as your home, you are still an Asgardian. That blood has just as much claim – if not more – than Jotunnheim. Proclaiming yourself to be less than a god, and refusing to return on that basis is false. You are a god, Loki, you are my brother, and I will do as I always have done. I will try to find a way to restore your happiness to you, and should that fail, I will _always _protect you."

Loki didn't appear to be listening to him. His eyes were staring out in front of him, a vacant expression in his eyes. His mouth was parted slightly, and when Thor had finished speaking, he blinked quickly and shot him a firm gaze.

"You know who she is. My mother, you know who she is." Loki stated shortly, and Thor winced and looked away. Trust Loki to be hung up on that detail. "Who is it?" He asked, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

"I only know her name, we have never met her." He spoke it then, and incomprehension crossed Loki's face. He'd never heard of her before. Thor sighed, his lips tightening to a thin line. "She died many years ago, Loki."

"How long ago?"

"Over one thousand years." Loki's math was never poor.

"She died when I was a baby." Thor shifted uncomfortably. "When I was born?"

"Loki…"

"After all you've done, would you deny me knowledge of mother too?" Loki scoffed slightly, and Thor winced at the jagged tone in his voice.

"She was a sorceress in father's army…during his campaign in Jotunheim. She was taken prisoner…" All the color drained from his face, and any illusions that Loki might have had about the nature of his birth vanished in an instant. Thor stopped speaking, pain clear in his expression.

Had his parents been wicked, but in love…Loki would have clearly been able to handle it better. But they were not even that. His father had raped his mother, and he was the bastard child from their union. A bastard child left to die in the cold wastelands of a realm where he was hated.

"Loki…"

"I wish to be alone." The young god murmured, squeezing his eyes shut and dipping his head into his hands.

"I cannot do that."

"Why must you insist on torturing me like this?" Loki met his brother's eyes. "No, brother, if you ever cared for me- then _please _leave me alone."

"You wouldn't be happy if I did that-"

"I can't ever _be _happy, Thor so do not try to preach that tired song to me now. You know exactly how deep my distaste runs, unless you're here to end this life for good then you are of no use to me. So leave me! I wish…I wish to be alone just for a time. An hour, two most, please brother." Loki met Thor's eyes beseechingly, but Thor shook his head.

"You cannot be unsupervised. I will…not say anything, I will sit here – very quiet."

"No, not you. Barton. Stark, any of the others – not you. Not now." Loki shook his head. "You owe me at least one moment to be free from you." Pain tore at Thor's heart, and he nodded his head.

"Goodbye then, brother." He whispered. Pressing a communication button, he waited until someone came to relieve him. When someone took over, he spared Loki one last look, before whispering a farewell.

Loki never replied, he kept his gaze focused off in the distance. Try as he might, Thor could see the tears that Loki was attempting to conceal. He'd made a mess of things. He only prayed that he could make them right one day soon. Somehow…he doubted that day would come during this lifetime.

The next day, everything had been set in order for their return to Asgard. The Avengers had all assembled to see them off, most of them ready to head out the moment after they'd gone. There were cars and packed gear laying here or there, and the men and woman were standing in a semi circle – watching them approach.

In his cell, Loki had said nothing as Tony insisted on tying a muzzle around his mouth. It was to keep him from whispering a spell and have him disappear into the dark. He didn't bother explaining beforehand that it was useless. Wordless magic was a trifle to one such as he, and while it did keep him from lying, it wouldn't do much more than that. The god didn't bother fighting as Thor led him to an open plot of land and urged him to take hold of the Tesseract so they could return home.

Some of the "Avengers" were making snide comments and jeering at the sight. Others, such as the noble Captain, were nobler – simply wishing them a safe journey (or rather, wishing Thor a safe journey) and saying he hoped to work with him again. Loki glared towards Stark when he made a comment about how he looked like such a good dog on a leash now. He was certain Thor hadn't heard it, because the blonde wasn't paying attention for it, but Loki did…and Loki was far from impressed with Stark's insults.

These people thought that a muzzle and the gods were going to stop him? He was only being compliant because he was suddenly very tired with everything. He was exhausted with trying to get other people to kill him, and try as he might – his idiot brother was still spouting nonsense of wanting to protect him…even after he had purposefully slaughtered people simply to gain his ire.

Right now, he was tired, put out, and sulking. Midgard lost its appeal almost immediately, and he had no desire to return. He did, however, have a deep desire to speak to Surtr…it seemed the fire giant had something that belonged to him.

Thor met his eyes then, a beseeching look on his features. Loki pressed his hand against the container holding the Tesseract, and Thor twisted it. Light burst around them and they flew off into the oblivion, shooting to the stars and returning to Asgard. Loki didn't particularly care about the destination, however. He simply sighed and followed as his brother led him through the long twisting passages of Asgard.

He looked at the city, and found that he had no love for this place. He had no attachment here, and his heart ached. He had long thought something was wrong with him to make him do as he had done. Now that he knew what the answer was, it shouldn't be too difficult to solve the problem.

He just needed to think…and then find a way back into Muspelheim.


End file.
